Eska seems to be attempting an ambitious Mexican-American variation on "King Lear," another tale of an aging patriarch seeking refuge but ultimately rejected by ungrateful children.

Uplifting without a drop of sap, the tale of a boy's obsession with a glittering swimming pool and how it changes four lives offers numerous pleasures and one of the most satisfying and resonant conclusions to be seen in recent cinema.

A towering heap of nihilistic nonsense that plays like a cornball "Children of God."

It is a sumptuously told tale of childlike wonder in the face of darkest corruption and war, mixing high comedy, surreal sequences and genuine drama viewed from a wise, jaundiced perspective.

This low-rent frat house comedy is at once far more vulgar and decidedly less anarchic than its obvious inspiration and should flunk out of theaters before this year's crop of freshman students even finish unpacking their bags.

Real disaster movies have more laughs than this spoof.

The film is a genuinely gripping tale about international terrorism that hopscotches across three continents.

The best you can say about the movie is that it isn't boring. It's fast-paced, but it isn't really well made.

Manages to stand on its own two skyscraper heels thanks to the comic force of nature that is Anna Faris.

Every triumph registers low on the emotion meter, and most of the supporting characters are two-dimensional at best.

Attaining somewhat of a bad parody of a comedy, screenwriters Andrew Fleming and Pam Brady have slapped together a string of gags in a hit-and-miss dither. Some of it is quite brainy.

Kimberly's ground-zero home video of the storm is what really makes the film exceptional, although much of it is of such rough quality and execution that it struggles to hold up on the big screen.

This smartly assembled wake-up call concerning the nation's lousy spending habits proves to be as unexpectedly spirited as it is dispiriting.

Overcomes its essential familiarity thanks to a frequently witty script, grounded direction (by Peter Cattaneo, of "Full Monty" fame) and an engaging turn by its star that proves him more than capable of carrying a comedy feature.

The largely uninspired Clone Wars feels landlocked. In the absence of any extensive innovation, the video game-ready results play more like a feature-length promo for the imminent TV series of the same name than a stand-alone event.

The two most hilarious characters, played by Spain's two most famous actors, Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz, are nothing if not cliches about tempestuous Latin lovers. But, boy, does Allen have fun with those cliches.

An awkward mix of proficient 3-D animation, detailed technical recreation and strained storytelling that stalls on takeoff.

This remake of a South Korean movie ultimately provides fewer scares than the average aging baby boomer feels every time they look into a reflective surface.

The biggest hole in this picture is not so much whether an audience will buy its miracles but whether an audience will care about Henry Poole. Wilson hits the same notes in virtually every scene without any change to his physical rhythms or moods.

Its impact is weakened by a limp ending and a sense that it all adds up to rather less than the sum of its parts.

An engaging if less than revelatory documentary.

Stiller manages his movie nicely so that all actors get their share of the comic spotlight. Seldom does an ensemble comedy not contain a single weak character or performance as does this one.

Cruz's performance deserves to be seen widely, and it should place her again in line for prizes, but the story's pretensions and downbeat mood will not endear the film to audiences.

Lacks sufficient substance to be of more than quickly passing interest for all but the most devoted fans.

Ex-Germs infect biopic with punk authenticity

There's definitely a workable, reality TV-based angle at the core of Last Stop -- something along the lines of "No Reservations" but with scattered human remains instead of Anthony Bourdain.

It's with that action aspect that Pineapple Express differs from Apatow's previous production output, and though, the words "taut" and "pulse-pounding" would never apply, the giddily over-the-top fight sequences, choreographed by veteran stunt coordinator Gary Hymes, handily compensate for the lag time.

This intelligent, affectionate, beautifully acted movie gives crowd-pleasers a good name.